Part 4 (1/2)

'She would have killed me,' Alice agreed in a whisper. 'She didn't know who I was. My own mother.' She looked from Clay to Tom. 'It was the cell phones,' she said in that same whisper. 'It was the cell phones, all right.'

14.

'So how many of the d.a.m.n things are there in Boston?' Clay asked. 'What's the market penetration?'

'Given the large numbers of college students, I'd say it's got to be huge,' Mr. Ricardi replied. He had resumed his seat behind his desk, and now he looked a little more animated. Comforting the girl might have done it, or perhaps it was being asked a business-oriented question. 'Although it goes much further than affluent young people, of course. I read an article in Inc. Inc. only a month or two ago that claimed there's now as many cell phones in mainland China as there are people in America. Can you imagine?' only a month or two ago that claimed there's now as many cell phones in mainland China as there are people in America. Can you imagine?'

Clay didn't want to imagine.

'All right.' Tom was nodding reluctantly. 'I see where you're going with this. Someone-some terrorist outfit-rigs the cell phone signals somehow. If you make a call or take one, you get some kind of a* what?* some kind of a subliminal message, I guess* that makes you crazy. Sounds like science fiction, but I suppose fifteen or twenty years ago, cell phones as they now exist would have seemed like science fiction to most people.'

'I'm pretty sure it's something like that,' Clay said. 'You can get enough of it to screw you up righteously if you even overhear overhear a call.' He was thinking of Pixie Dark. 'But the insidious thing is that when people see things going wrong all around them-' a call.' He was thinking of Pixie Dark. 'But the insidious thing is that when people see things going wrong all around them-'

'Their first impulse is to reach for their cell phones and try to find out what's causing it,' Tom said.

'Yeah,' Clay said. 'I saw people doing it.'

Tom looked at him bleakly. 'So did I.'

'What all this has to do with you leaving the safety of the hotel, especially with dark coming on, I don't know,' Mr. Ricardi said.

As if in answer, there came another explosion. It was followed by half a dozen more, marching off to the southeast like the diminis.h.i.+ng footsteps of a giant. From above them came another thud, and a faint cry of rage.

'I don't think the crazy ones will have the brains to leave the city any more than that guy up there can find his way to the stairs,' Clay said.

For a moment he thought the look on Tom's face was shock, and then he realized it was something else. Amazement, maybe. And dawning hope. 'Oh, Christ,' he said, and actually slapped the side of his face with one hand. 'They 'They won't leave. I never thought of that.' won't leave. I never thought of that.'

'There might be something else,' Alice said. She was biting her lip and looking down at her hands, which were working together in a restless knot. She forced herself to look up at Clay. 'It might actually be safer safer to go after dark.' to go after dark.'

'Why's that, Alice?'

'If they can't see you-if you can get behind something, if you can hide-they forget about you almost right away.'

'What makes you think that, honey?' Tom asked.

'Because I hid from the man who was chasing me,' she said in a low voice. 'The guy in the yellow s.h.i.+rt. This was just before I saw you. I hid in an alley. Behind one of those Dumpster thingies? I was scared, because I thought there might not be any way back out if he came in after me, but it was all I could think of to do. I saw him standing at the mouth of the alley, looking around, walking walking around and around-walking the worry-circle, my grampa would say-and at first I thought he was playing with me, you know? Because he around and around-walking the worry-circle, my grampa would say-and at first I thought he was playing with me, you know? Because he had had to've seen me go into the alley, I was only a few feet ahead of him* just a few feet* almost close enough to grab*' Alice began to tremble. 'But once I was in there, it was like* I dunno*' to've seen me go into the alley, I was only a few feet ahead of him* just a few feet* almost close enough to grab*' Alice began to tremble. 'But once I was in there, it was like* I dunno*'

'Out of sight, out of mind,' Tom said. 'But if he was that close, why did you stop running?'

'Because I couldn't anymore,' Alice said. 'I just couldn't. My legs were like rubber, and I felt like I was going to shake myself apart from the inside. But it turned out I didn't have to run, anyway. He walked the worry-circle a few more times, muttering that crazy talk, and then just walked off. I could hardly believe it. I thought he had to be trying to fake me out* but at the same time I knew he was too crazy for anything like that.' She glanced briefly at Clay, then back down at her hands again. 'My problem was running into him again. I should have stuck with you guys the first time. I can be pretty stupid sometimes.'

'You were sca-' Clay began, and then the biggest explosion yet came from somewhere east of them, a deafening KER-WHAM! KER-WHAM! that made them all duck and cover their ears. They heard the window in the lobby shatter. that made them all duck and cover their ears. They heard the window in the lobby shatter.

'My* G.o.d, G.o.d,' Mr. Ricardi said. His wide eyes underneath that bald head made him look to Clay like Little Orphan Annie's mentor, Daddy Warbucks. 'That might have been the new Sh.e.l.l superstation they put in over on Kneeland. The one all the taxis and the Duck Boats use. It was the right direction.'

Clay had no idea if Ricardi was right, he couldn't smell burning gasoline (at least not yet), but his visually trained mind's eye could see a triangle of city concrete now burning like a propane torch in the latening day.

'Can a modern city burn?' he asked Tom. 'One made mostly of concrete and metal and gla.s.s? Could it burn the way Chicago did after Mrs. O'Leary's cow kicked over the lantern?'

'That lantern-kicking business was nothing but an urban legend,' Alice said. She was rubbing the back of her neck as if she were getting a bad headache. 'Mrs. Myers said so, in American History.'

'Sure it could,' Tom said. 'Look what happened to the World Trade Center, after those airplanes. .h.i.t it.'

'Airplanes full of jet fuel,' Mr. Ricardi said pointedly.

As if the bald desk clerk had conjured it, the smell of burning gasoline began to come to them, wafting through the shattered lobby windows and sliding beneath the door to the inner office like bad mojo.

'I guess you were on the nose about that Sh.e.l.l station,' Tom remarked.

Mr. Ricardi went to the door between his office and the lobby. He unlocked it and opened it. What Clay could see of the lobby beyond already looked deserted and gloomy and somehow irrelevant. Mr. Ricardi sniffed audibly, then closed the door and locked it again. 'Fainter already,' he said.

'Wishful thinking,' Clay said. 'Either that or your nose is getting used to the aroma.'

'I think he might be right,' Tom said. 'That's a good west wind out there-by which I mean the air's moving toward the ocean-and if what we just heard was that new station they put in on the corner of Kneeland and Was.h.i.+ngton, by the New England Medical Center-'

'That's the one, all right,' Mr. Ricardi said. His face registered glum satisfaction. 'Oh, the protests! The smart money fixed that, that, believe you m-' believe you m-'

Tom overrode him. '-then the hospital will be on fire by now* along with anybody left inside, of course*'

'No,' Alice said, then put a hand over her mouth. Alice said, then put a hand over her mouth.

'I think yes. And the w.a.n.g Center's next in line. The breeze may drop by full dark, but if it doesn't, everything east of the Ma.s.s Pike is apt to be so much toasted cheese by ten p.m.'

'We're west west of there,' Mr. Ricardi pointed out. of there,' Mr. Ricardi pointed out.

'Then we're safe enough,' Clay said. 'At least from that that one.' He went to Mr. Ricardi's little window, stood on his toes, and peered out onto Ess.e.x Street. one.' He went to Mr. Ricardi's little window, stood on his toes, and peered out onto Ess.e.x Street.

'What do you see?' Alice asked. 'Do you see people?'

'No* yes. One man. Other side of the street.'

'Is he one of the crazy ones?' she asked.

'I can't tell.' But Clay thought he was. It was the way he ran, and the jerky way he kept looking back over his shoulder. Once, just before he went around the corner and onto Lincoln Street, the guy almost ran into a fruit display in front of a grocery store. And although Clay couldn't hear him, he could see the man's lips moving. 'Now he's gone.'

'No one else?' Tom asked.